


Before the Storm

by daphnerunning



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, tsundere boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Titus can't imagine a life after Laem's invasion. Sphintus can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Storm

Titus isn’t sure what he’d expected from war, but it certainly hadn’t involved all this waiting. It makes sense, he knows logically. There’s the time it takes for an army to get from one place to another, the time to set up, the calm before the storm, and he’s known all of that for most of his life (a few months). 

  
He’d never thought about it applied to him, though. 

  
“Relax.” A strong, dark hand tugs him down, and Titus relaxes with poor grace, tense and unhappy even pulled against the lean muscle of Sphintus’s side. “They won’t even be here for another few days. And when they get here, we’ll be ready for them.”

  
That hardly does anything to make Titus feel better, and he turns his face, burying it against Sphintus’s shoulder.

  
“Hey.”

  
Sphintus knows him too well by now, pulling away, brushing fingertips under his chin. “Stop it.”

  
“I’m—”

  
“I bet you’re thinking something dumb again, like that we shouldn’t be fighting because of you. Well, don’t. We all got to choose if we wanted to stay, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  
Titus flops down with a huff, ignoring the way Sphintus laughs at him. “Fine. Then what?”

  
“How about what we’ll do if we make it?”

  
“What you’ll do, maybe.”

  
“Don’t.” Sphintus’s eyes glitter, and Titus hears the faint hiss of scales sliding against skin as Kukulcan curls around his arms. “Come on, Mogamett is probably the greatest magician who’s ever lived, other than Magi. And I’m not a bad healer, right? We’ll figure something out.”

  
Titus wants to argue—

  
—but really, he doesn’t. He’d rather live in Sphintus’s world, where snakes are appropriate pets and clones get to live forever. He snuggles closer, memorizing the warmth of skin against his, the rise and fall of a human chest under his hand, remembering, remembering, it’s real if I can remember it, I’m real if he remembers me. “All right. Then what?”

  
Sphintus shrugs. “Whatever you want. You could be a wandering magician, get yourself taken in by a royal house, be a great warrior or a creepy hermit, it’s up to you.”

  
Titus raises up on his elbows, ignoring the way Sphintus winces when one elbow gets him in the stomach. “Like, choose a career? The way children do when they become adults?”

  
“The lucky ones.”

  
A smile splits Titus’s face, and he squirms, getting more on top of Sphintus, liking the way his own weight presses the other boy down. “All those possibilities….Marga will have a lot too, won’t she?”

  
“With a magician like you championing her, definitely.”

  
“What about you?”

  
Sphintus’s smile is crooked, and his eyes are focused on something faraway. “I’ll go home. When I’m done learning, I mean. My family needs me all trained up.”

“You’re all right,” Titus allows, with something like a grin. “For a healer.”

“Watch it,” Sphintus growls, and the vibrations that sends through his chest against Titus’s skin are fascinating. “Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and make you part of my harem.”

Titus’s eyes light up, and he wriggles his way on top of Sphintus. The touch of another’s skin is still new enough to be novel, and he could curse himself for not making the most of every minute he’s alive, for wasting months in being envious and angry, not enjoying the taste of Sphintus’s skin. But, there is that saying, live and learn.

God, what he’d do to be able to count on that.

“I read a book about a harem,” he murmurs, sliding his hands down the other boy’s chest, liking the way Sphintus’s skin looks against his. “It all seemed very…fanciful. Unreal.”

“They’re real enough, in Heliohapt.” The shadow of his homeland crosses Sphintus’s face before he banishes it, rolling them over to pin Titus down. “You’d be mine. God, everyone would be so jealous, you’re so pretty.”

“Am not—”

“You could go around in a slinky little outfit,” Sphintus says with a grin, openly lecherous. He grapples with the fastenings of Titus’s clothing, baring his chest and torso, blushing a little as he does. “Only I’d get to see this, though.”

He trails a finger down, and Titus swallows hard, gooseflesh rippling in the wake of his touch as it moves from his neck to his chest, down to circle his belly button.

“So lewd,” Sphintus breathes, and Titus feels the hard press of him against his thigh. “Looking like this, you’re just asking for it, aren’t you?”

Titus snorts out a laugh, but it’s not as derisive as he’d intended, not when Sphintus is touching him. “You—that’s only lewd to you, it’s because you’re so weird, no one else thinks—”

“That’s because no one else gets to see it.” That teasing fingertip is replaced with the hot wet tip of Sphintus’s tongue, and Titus’s mind fizzles out. He shivers, arching up against Sphintus’s mouth, and ah, he hardly notices the way his leg spread, trying to get the other boy between them.

Everything is a blur, and no matter how many times he’s had Sphintus (not enough, never enough, not time for enough), there’s no accounting for the shock that goes through him whenever he feels those rough strong hands on his body, turning him over, mouth hot and wet on the pale skin of his shoulder. “It’s fine,” Sphintus breathes, and until then, Titus hardly realizes he’s shaking. “It’s fine, I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Shut up,” Titus groans, “or I’ll curse you and you’ll die, so hurry up!”

He doesn’t expect Sphintus’s hand to pinch quite so hard at his ass, and he lets out a yelp, lurching forward and burying his head in a pillow. It smells like the smoke from Sphintus’s pipe, and he inhales deeply, wriggling down and letting out a muffled gasp when a long slick finger worms its way inside him. “S-Sphin—”

Sphintus growls at him, pinching him again, and Titus bites down into the pillow, thinking he should probably hate that roughness a lot more than he does. “You said to shut up and hurry up, I’m doing it! Spread your legs wider, are you trying to hurt me?”

“I’m—” Titus curses the fact that he can’t properly respond, can’t do anything when the finger inside him feels so good, not enough, but good. “Just—”

Sphintus laughs at him, kicking his legs apart and adding another finger, and Titus groans, collapsing down to the mattress. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of—”

“You said that,” Titus all but snarls. “Do it already!”

This time it isn’t a pinch, but a light slap on his ass, and Titus’s eyes go wide. Ah. That should….ah. His voice is weak, shaky as he asks, “Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”

“Stop using big words,” Sphintus grumbles, and the thick head of his cock presses against Titus, making him gasp. “Breathe slow, okay? I know how you get.”

“How I—” Titus’s words are cut off when they turn into a whine, and Sphintus’s hand comes up to his hair, shoving it down into the pillow.

Titus probably shouldn’t like that as much as he does.

The first press of Sphintus inside him steals his breath, thick and hard and good as it slides in, reducing all his thoughts to a mindless, breathless plea. It aches, every inch stuffing him full, making him breathe slow, hands clutching at the bedsheets as Sphintus presses a hot kiss to the back of his shoulder.

“You all right?”

“Only—” Titus swallows hard, arching his back to rub down against the bed. “Only if you move.”

Sphintus’s chuckle is low and rich, more the self-confident prat he’d been when they’d met than the clinging, loyal boy he’s become lately, and all those thoughts fizzle into nothing when Sphintus moves.

It’s like electricity, a sharp, bolt of it snaking up his spine and making him groan and hump down into the mattress, shuddering with every slick, thick slide of Sphintus’s cock inside of him. It’s too much. It always is, enough to leave him shaky and grasping at the sheets, whining like some animal more than any human as he squirms his way back, and like this, Titus thinks he can forget about everything that troubles him, and focus only on what feels  _good_. 

In fact, he’s sure he does, with each hard thrust that leaves him groaning out Sphintus’s name. Sphintus isn’t particular gentle—Titus doesn’t want him to be, and it’s good being shoved down, a hand fisted into his hair to pull him back, his cock so hard that it leaks, dripping onto the bedspread beneath him with each grind and slap of Sphintus’s hips against him. 

Sphintus comes first, using him hard, filling him with slick, wet heat, and Titus whimpers, whines, grinds back in helpless little wriggles until his own world goes white, his body sagging into the bed helplessly, and nothing, _nothing_  is better in that moment. 

“Good?” is Sphintus’s low murmur after a moment, a hand on Titus’s hair smoothing it back, and somehow, Titus manages a nod, no matter how his body begs  _sleep_. “Nice and relaxed now, at least.”

 _Isn’t he_ , though. “Let’s … do this all the time.”

Titus can feel Sphintus’s grin against his skin. “All the time.”


End file.
